


Ever Slightly Out of Reach

by Avery_Kedavra



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Ghost Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kid Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Kid Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Major Character Undeath, Thunderstorms, again not really tho because he's all good and ghosty now!, is making sure our ghost best friend doesn't get lost while we're gone, it's basically as fluffy as a ghost au could possibly be, that's how the song goes right, the annual problem of our generation, there's a hundred and four days of summer vacation and school comes along just to end it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:07:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29011785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery_Kedavra/pseuds/Avery_Kedavra
Summary: Roman and Remus have made the most of summer vacation. Now, though, Remus is stuck going back to school, and Roman refuses to come with him. Roman doesn't like leaving the house. Even though he keeps forgetting where the furniture is.Remus' solution? Make his best friend a map so he doesn't get lost. Make their last day as fun as possible. And try as hard as he can to convince Roman to leave the house. That shouldn't be too hard. Remus is very convincing, especially when he's trying to avoid being alone.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders
Comments: 9
Kudos: 51





	Ever Slightly Out of Reach

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fanartfunart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanartfunart/gifts).



> So it’s been a hot second since I wrote anything, thanks to finals, and I wanted a quick warmup to get myself back in the groove. And that quick warmup may have turned out not-so-quick. Oops. That’s partly thanks to the great base prompt by @fanartfunart on Tumblr, which I fell in love with. I hope I stayed true to the spirit of the AU, and I hope you all enjoy this rambling plotless ghost fluff.
> 
> (Title from Still Here by Digital Daggers!)

It was a dark and stormy afternoon, and Remus was preparing to be possessed.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Roman said, floating in his favorite position above the foot of Remus’ bed. One of his legs dangled towards the floor. The other was nowhere to be found. “We should really do something else.”

“Don’t be a quitter,” Remus said. He combed his hair with his fingers. “It’s fun!”

“It’s not.”

“You like it,” Remus complained. “Last time, you squealed about getting to eat an apple.”

“Yeah, but--” Roman winced. “You feel all _greasy_. It’s like I’m stuck in a--really dirty oven mitt.”

“Hey!”

“You probably haven’t showered for days.” Roman flopped upside down and his mist tinted red. “Did you even wash your hands after lunch?”

Remus looked down at his hands. His nails still had dirt stuck under them in little crescent moons. Yesterday, he’d dug up weeds from the garden and brought them to show Roman. The mess was always part of the fun.

“I didn’t wash my hands,” Remus admitted, “but it’s no biggie--”

“Ew!” Roman interrupted, folding his arms until they blended together. “And I _knew_ it! You _never_ wash your hands! You don’t even do it after you pick your _nose!”_

Remus grinned and shoved his finger into his nose, just for fun.

“ _Ew!”_ Roman yelled louder. “Grow _up!”_

“I’m already nine,” Remus said triumphantly, poking the finger a bit further to see if he could feel his brains. “Nine and one whole quarter.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I’m way older than you. Shut it, doodoo head.”

“ _You_ shut it!” Remus yanked his finger out of his nose and wiped it on his sash. Roman cringed. “You’re gonna go inside this doodoo head and you’re gonna like it.”

Roman huffed. But Remus knew he wasn’t really mad, ‘cause when Roman got real mad, the furniture wasn’t on the ground anymore.

“Come _on_ ,” Remus pleaded, flopping onto the carpet. He gave Roman his best give-me-candy-I’m-a-good-boy look. “You know you wanna. We’ll only do it for like six seconds and it’ll be _hilarious_.”

“It’s not funny,” Roman said.

“Prove it.” Remus popped back upright and kicked his bare feet in the air. “Possess me.”

“No.”

“Come _on!_ You’re worse than Mom!” Remus rolled his eyes until the whites showed. “I’m gonna go back to school tomorrow and I wanna do this _now!_ Before I’ve got _homework_ and stuff. And if you practice, you’ll get really good, and we could go all sorts of places together!”

Roman shivered. “I don’t want to go anywhere in your gross head.”

“I’m _awesome_ for possessing,” Remus said. He tried to imitate the commercials on TV and in-between videos about car explosions. “I’m cool, I’m smart, I have cool hair, I’ve had a whole entire boyfriend--”

“That was in kindergarten,” Roman said. “It doesn’t count.”

“It does too!”

“Does not!”

“ _And_ I’m awesome,” Remus said, forcing himself away from an argument. “And I have ten whole fingers and ten whole toes. You have, like, five. Tops.”

Roman counted his currently-visible fingers. “Seven.”

“See?” Remus pointed at him. “And--and! _And_ I have a cool outfit. So I’m the _best_ for possessing.”

Roman gave Remus a look. An _I-don’t-want-to-be-mean_ look. Remus knew that look from teachers who didn’t like his drawings. And classmates who thought he was freaky. And his parents when they tried to tell him _again_ that Roman wasn’t real, Remus was just making up an imaginary friend, and shouldn’t he try to go play with some kids his own age?

Remus knew, though. He knew he wasn’t making Roman up. Two years of being besties wasn’t made-up, and just because nobody else could see Roman didn’t mean Roman wasn’t there. Sometimes things stayed in houses without people noticing. Like stains. Or the slug Remus kept in a shoebox. If his parents didn’t know about the slug, it made sense that they might not know about Roman, either.

Typical grownups. Thought they knew everything.

Roman was nice, because he actually _did_ know stuff. Not stuff like how TVs worked--Remus had tried to explain it, Roman just didn’t get it--but other stuff. Stuff he wouldn’t tell Remus sometimes.

“How’d you die?” Remus asked, instead of trying to remember what he’d just been talking about. He hadn’t asked yet today. Maybe this time it’d work.

“Quicksand,” Roman said.

Could be true. “How?”

“I fell into it.” Roman was definitely telling a story now. He got all dramatic whenever he made something up. “It was a sad, sad day.”

“Why’d you fall into quicksand?” Remus asked, sitting on the carpet and pulling at the threads. “Seems kinda stupid if you ask me.”

“Hey!” Roman said. “I didn’t fall, I was pushed.”

“You said you fell!”

“I said wrong!” Roman huffed, and red flickered around his eyes. “I got pushed because my uncle wanted the kingdom for himself. Quicksand is really cold, actually. All my bones got filled with sand one by one, and it tasted _super_ gross.”

“Did your eye sockets get filled up too?” Remus asked.

Roman nodded. “And my ear sockets. And then I died.”

Remus decided that was a good enough story, and accepted it at face value. “That does sound real gross.”

“It was.” Roman snickered. “Almost as gross as being in your head.”

“Hey!” Remus jumped up. “Look, if you don’t like my head, you can go sit in the living room and talk to all the grownups. But we’ve done this before! You possessed me on accident--”

“I said I was sorry,” Roman mumbled.

“--and then you did it on purpose a couple times, and it was _really cool_ , it was like--” Remus waved his hands and smashed them together. “Bam! You and me all in one brain! And I wanna do it again, so we can figure out how it works, and we can do it for longer!”

Roman raised an eyebrow until it disappeared. “Why?”

“So you can--” Remus gestured at him. “We could do stuff together!”

“We already do stuff together.”

“No, like--” Remus glanced out the window. He could just see the road in the distance. The bus stop was right across the street. He’d have to stand there tomorrow, even if it was still raining. “I know you never leave the house, but if you were _me_ , we could--”

Roman’s eyes hardened. “No.”

Remus faltered. “I just thought--”

Roman immediately looked guilty. He shifted back and forth in midair, and for a few seconds, he almost disappeared altogether. Then he stabilized. Bright white, small, and still just Remus’ height--Roman never explained why they’d been growing together, and maybe he didn’t know. Or maybe it was just another thing Roman wouldn’t tell him.

For a best friend, Roman kept a lot of secrets.

But still. Maybe that was just how friends were. Remus didn’t really have a lot of experience.

“It’s okay,” Roman said to where his feet would probably be. “I just--fine. I’ll possess you, alright? If you really wanna. I’ll wear your weird outfit and everything. But you owe me a favor.”

Remus squealed and twirled around. He didn’t even care that Roman insulted his outfit. He didn’t care about the favor, either--Remus owed Roman like twenty favors by now, it was fine. Remus had time to pay him back later. Roman wasn’t exactly _going_ anywhere.

“This is gonna be great!” Remus blurted out, gesturing for Roman to join him on the carpet. “Okay, you can do it whenever, and you can pop out whenever! But go ahead and try to do stuff while you’re me! So we can see how it works.”

Roman nodded a bit, floating just above the carpet. “So...now?”

“Now,” Remus said. “Unless you’re too chicken--I’m not a chicken!”

Roman’s voice, Remus’ mouth. Roman was gone from the carpet. Remus stood alone in his room.

Remus grinned. “Awesome.”

His grin twisted into an annoyed smirk, followed by an “If you say so.”

It really _was_ awesome. Being possessed was like when you sat in one place for too long and your legs fell asleep. It tingled all over his skin. It made him kinda slow to move and slow to think, and it felt a bit like he was floating, just like Roman could. His head was dizzy and the room was _deeper_ than it used to be, like Remus could see it from every angle, and the rain drummed louder and louder.

“This is so cool,” Remus whispered. It took a second for the words to work, even though Roman quickly let him talk. “You wanna try and move?”

“You can move,” Roman said back, seeming to retreat from Remus’ legs. Remus kicked his foot at the carpet. “I’m not good at walking anymore.”

“Practice makes perfect!” Remus concentrated and tried to shove Roman into the legs again. _Go in there, go in there, come on--_

“Don’t _think_ so loud.” Roman huffed and rolled Remus’ eyes. “Fine. I’ll try to walk. Don’t grab control until I’m done, though, ‘cause you’ll make us both fall over.”

Remus mimed zipping his lips. The next second, he was pulled closer into himself and away from his skin. He felt his legs move. Roman walked with an awkward wobble--probably because he didn’t have legs most of the time--and a kind of glide. Remus tried very hard not to interrupt Roman. He sucked in his breath and watched patiently.

Roman had managed to walk them halfway across the room. He was picking up speed now, seeming to remember how it worked when gravity existed, and Remus felt his mouth twist in a smile. They walked past the window, Roman skimming fingers across the pane and leaving water on Remus’ hands. Around and around. Roman knew this place, Remus started to feel--he knew where the door was and how many steps it took to get there. He knew how to dash around corners, he knew where to kick the doors, he knew the creakiest floorboards. He’d just forgotten.

“You wanna go downstairs?” Remus asked, trying his hardest to keep his control from spreading to his legs. “We could get a snack.”

“Good idea!” Roman sounded excited. He always sounded excited. Why did he complain about possession stuff anyway? He clearly liked to be in Remus’ head, and he liked to be able to walk around, and he was _good_ at it. Remus didn’t even have to worry, ‘cause Roman knew where to go--

And they both crashed into the wall.

Remus fell onto the floor. His knee banged something on the way down, and it started to hurt, especially when he grabbed it to see what was wrong.

“ _Ow!”_ Remus complained. The words hit no barrier. “ _Ow_ , fudge-popsicle-muffin-nugget, what the _frick?”_

“Sorry!” Roman was crumpled next to him, adjusting his sash. The stupid muffin probably left as soon as things started to hurt. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Why’d you lead us into the _wall?”_ Remus inspected his knee. It wasn’t quite scream-for-Mom worthy--no blood--but maybe he’d put a bandaid on it, just in case. “That _hurt_ , stupid.”

“There _wasn’t_ a wall there!” Roman complained.

Remus pointed at the very obvious wall.

“I mean there didn’t _use_ to be one.” Roman drifted upright. He did look sorry about it, which made Remus less annoyed. “That’s where the door used to be. I got mixed up.”

“It’s been at least two years.” Remus pulled himself to his feet. His knee still stung, but not that bad. “Get used to the new door, weirdo.”

“I never have to _use_ it!” Roman floated halfway through the wall as an example. The wallpaper curled slightly, like he’d lit a fire next to it. “Not my fault that you guys put all the things in different places. I never know how to get _anywhere_ anymore!”

Remus blew a raspberry at him. “Maybe look _around_ you, weener. It’s your house, you gotta know it.”

Roman glared at the wall. “Doesn’t feel like my house.”

After a second, Remus clapped his hands. “Can’t have you walk around in my body if you’re gonna ride it off a cliff, so--guess we’re done?”

“We’re done,” Roman said, looking relieved. “I’m spared your terrible fashion sense.”

“Hey!” Remus grabbed his sash protectively. “I made this outfit myself and I love it and you can shut your hole.”

“Okay, okay.” Roman drifted over to the bed and stretched his arms. “What do we do now?”

Remus hummed, looking between Roman and the door. It was still raining. It was the last day of summer vacation--not the _last_ last day, but tomorrow Remus was gonna get a new backpack, and that was fun but it didn’t have Roman. Roman never came shopping with him. So Remus got one day before Roman would be stuck in the house all alone.

He could try to get Roman to come along, but he didn’t wanna waste the afternoon.

Remus looked back at the door. Had it really been in a different place? Remus knew that all the furniture was different now, especially in the living room, but he didn’t know about the doors. He didn’t know much about the house at all. It was too big--good for hide and seek, bad for understanding. Sometimes Remus wished he had a house GPS.

Actually--

“I’ve got an idea,” Remus said. “Do you wanna make a map?”

“A map?” Roman asked. He already looked interested. “Like a treasure map?”

“No, a map of the house! From bottom to top!”

Roman tilted his head. “Why?”

“So we don’t get lost!” Remus hopped in place. “You can know the way around, and so can I! It’ll be fun, come _on_ , come on come on come on--”

“That does sound like an adventure,” Roman said slowly.

“Yeah!” Remus nodded his head as fast as he could. “We can make a whole big map and we can both draw on it! It can be _like_ a treasure map, except it’s just the whole house all the way through!”

Roman smiled. “We’ll need a lot of paper, right?”

“Woo!” Remus cheered. He always felt great when Roman liked his ideas. “Let’s go-go-go!”

“Paper,” Roman said as Remus threw open the door. “And pencils.”

“I bet Mom has some!” Remus waved his hands. “Come on, Ro, don’t waste time!”

“I’ve got _all_ the time,” Roman teased, but he followed Remus into the hallway.

Remus was really good at getting places fast. Why wait and _walk_ somewhere, if you could get to the cool place in half the time? He kicked off the edge of the carpet, slid and sped down the hallway, jumped past the other bedrooms, and barely paused at the staircase. Up onto the banister, a little push, and then _down!_

The rooms spun past him in a spiral, his feet flying, and he giggled wildly as he slipped towards the first floor. Whenever he tilted too hard in one direction, the wind pushed him back into place. Remus could go as fast as he liked, because Roman was there to keep him on course. He could never fall without Roman catching him.

When the banister tapered off in a swirl, Remus catapulted himself off the edge, rolling onto the carpet and springing back up. Roman grinned at him when he solidified enough to have a mouth. Remus didn’t wait for the rest of his face. He barreled across the tiles, skidded around the corner, and burst into the kitchen.

“Mom! Mom-Mom-Mom!” Remus darted over and tugged at her arm. _“Mom!”_

“What is it?” she asked. She’d been leaning on the counter, checking her phone. “What do you need, Remus?”

“Do you have paper?” Remus spread his hands wide. “Like, super big paper?”

“There should be some in the attic.” She frowned. “What are you up to?”

“Nothin’.” Remus glanced over to Roman, who was curiously poking at the window boxes. “We’re just gonna draw something, is all.”

“We--” Her mouth worked for a few seconds, like she had a lollipop stuck to her tongue. “Oh. Are you sure you don’t want to do something _else_ for your last day of vacation? Go for a walk? It can’t be good for that brain of yours to be cooped up inside.”

Remus knocked on his skull. “It seems fine to me. And it’s raining out!”

“I think it’ll stop for a bit later,” Mom said unconvincingly. “I--I’m just not sure if you want to run around in the house all day. You spend too much time inside it already.”

“I do not.” Remus pouted. “I like it here!”

“I’m glad you do.” She drummed her fingers on the counter before sighing. “Maybe you’ll make some friends at school.”

“Don’t need any friends,” Remus said. “I’ve _got_ a friend.”

“Right. Right.” Mom rubbed her eyes. “Like I said, the paper is in the attic. You might want to ask your father for help with it. And don’t get into any trouble, okay?”

“I won’t!”

“I know how much that’s worth.” She slipped her phone into her pocket and grabbed a spatula. “Holler if you need me.”

“I will!” Remus gestured to Roman, who reluctantly floated away from the window. “Come _on,_ Ro, we haven’t got all day! _”_

Accompanied by a long sigh that melted into the wind, Remus and Roman left the kitchen.

“You’ll have to go back in, if you want to make a map,” Roman pointed out.

“I know what the kitchen looks like.” Remus scoffed. “Stove, oven, fridge, things I’m not allowed to touch. Easy-peasy.”

He hopped up the stairs two at a time. Roman drifted along the banister and peeked at the rooms below. Whenever he flipped upside down, his hair pooled around his face like a cloud of smoke. Remus idly batted at him. Roman felt like nothing. Nothing and warm.

“She said the stuff’s in the attic,” Remus said, hopping off the stairs and barreling down the hallway to the other stairs. “And that’s got the fun trapdoor, right?”

“We broke the trapdoor,” Roman said. “It’s just a hole now.”

“Not my fault it can’t handle paintballs.” Remus scrambled up the other stairs. “But Mom said that’s got the paper, so you and I can go get it.”

“She also said you have to ask your dad.”

“She’s stupid.”

“I can just get the paper.” Roman flickered and appeared farther up the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t--” Remus didn’t even manage to finish the sentence before Roman was gone. A bit of mist curled from the landing. It drifted to the window, slipped through the glass, and disappeared into the rain. So Roman’s mist could go outside, but Roman couldn’t? What kind of rules were there? Why did Roman never get to go where Remus could?

Remus shivered. It got cold easily in the house. Something about drafts. He felt very small on the staircase, alone, scuffing the red carpet with his toes.

Roman would be back soon. He always got back soon. Roman used to go all sorts of places without Remus, until Remus got tired of trying to find him every time he woke up. Ghosts were better than people, but ghosts were harder to find when they got lost. Remus used to worry that Roman would get really lost. So lost that Remus wouldn’t be able to see him anymore, and he’d forget that Roman was real. And he wouldn’t have _any_ friends, and he’d just be alone in the cold stupid house.

Remus didn’t worry that anymore. At least, he thought he didn’t. Now, with the gray light shining through the windows, he felt ants in his intestines.

“Wait up!” Remus called, and ran after Roman.

He caught up right beneath the attic. Roman was right--it was still a hole. A square hole above the bookcase, with foldable stairs squeezed next to the books.

“Ro!” Remus yelled.

A thump or two, and a misty face reappeared. In the dark, Roman glowed, like glow-in-the-dark shoes. “What?”

“Can I come up?” Remus asked.

“I’m almost done!” Roman disappeared. Another few thumps shook the ceiling. “Catch!”

A pad of paper fell through the hole. Remus tried to catch it, failed, and grabbed it before Roman could notice.

“That’s all I could find.” Pencils and pens rained from the hole, followed by a smaller notebook. “Does it work?”

Remus frowned at the paper. It was small, only about the size of a poster. “Can we fit the whole house on here?”

“We could go room by room.” Roman drifted down to Remus, aimed wrong, and stuck his arm through Remus’ shoulder. Remus laughed and swatted the air. Roman adjusted himself. “Make one map for each room.”

“I guess.” That wouldn’t help with finding rooms, but this was about Roman knowing where the doors were. Remus didn’t want Roman to get lost while Remus was gone. “That works.”

“Fantastic!” Roman looked around. “Which room first?”

“Top to bottom?” Remus pointed at the ceiling. “Let’s start with the attic.”

It took several tries for Roman to lift Remus through the hole. Remus almost hit his head on the side, making Roman drop him out of panic, making Remus almost hit his head on the _floor_. Roman caught him, of course, but it took another minute for Remus to get Roman to try again. Finally, Remus squeezed through the hole. Floating felt like going up an elevator. If the elevator was wobbly, invisible, and complained a lot.

The attic was a nest of boxes. Every piece of cardboard was labeled, some in writing that Remus didn’t recognize. Old photos. Old jewelry. Old spiderwebs. The stuff in front, Remus knew. Holiday stuff, and extra silverware, and Mom’s favorite Passover sweater. Beyond that, though, was a sea of boxes that hadn’t been touched in years. Remus had explored a few of them, and he’d seen all kinds of old stuff, the kind that was probably worth a lot online. Maybe Mom and Dad should sell it. Roman might get upset, though--Roman didn’t like it when stuff got lost.

Remus cleared a space in the center of the attic and unfolded a piece of paper. He handed Roman a pencil. Roman dropped it by accident. Remus gave Roman another pencil.

“Okay, so we’re gonna draw a square like this.” Remus drew a square as neatly as he could. “And then we add the windows and the doors, and then all the stuff inside the room, and we can label it so we know what’s what!”

Roman nodded. “Can I add sparkles?”

“There aren’t any sparkles in the room.”

“There should be.”

“Add sparkles or whatever.” Remus grinned. “I’m gonna add _poop_. And lots of spooky ghosts with big pointy teeth.”

“Except I’m saving you from them,” Roman corrected, “since I’m the knight! They’re no match for me.”

“No, they’re my friends too!” Remus waved his hands. “They’re my _army!_ I’ve got a ghost army and they give me cookies and think I’m cool.”

Roman pouted. “I already do that!”

“You’re a dork.”

“Am _not!”_

Remus snickered and started drawing some of the boxes. Roman doodled around the edges, crossed out some of Remus’ lines, and wrote labels in shaky handwriting. Remus made the room too small on the page, so there was lots of room for extra drawings around the edges. Remus drew three frogs, five rats, and seven ghosts with pointy teeth and blood in their eyeballs. And an octopus, but it didn’t look right.

When they’d managed to fill the whole paper, Remus checked the map against the room. All the boxes were there, plus the one small window at the other end, between slopes of wood. It was still raining. Remus couldn’t move without the floor creaking, and he could barely stand up all the way.

“Where next?” Remus asked, rolling up the map.

“Downstairs,” Roman said, “one room at a time.”

The first bedroom. Most of the bedrooms on the top floors were empty, and the dust made Roman look smudged. This bedroom had a small raggedy doll in one corner and a faded pink bed. When Remus kicked the carpet, it came apart at the edge. The windows overlooked the backyard, which sloped past the gardens and shed before hitting the woods with a crunch. They labeled the map ‘Bedroom’ and Roman drew flowers in the margins. One of the pencils rolled under the pink bed and Remus almost bumped his head trying to get it back.

The first bathroom. It didn’t have a sink anymore, and the toilet was still clogged from the time Remus tried to flush lasagna down it. The whole place smelled like lasagna. Maybe Remus should tell Dad about it, but that’d mean getting in trouble, so he plugged his nose and drew a map. Since there wasn’t much floor, and the tiles looked like barf, Remus put the map against the mirror. The mirror had a long crack in it that made his lines go skewed. He labeled it ‘Lasagna Bathroom.’ Roman drew stink waves coming from the toilet.

Another bedroom. The bed used to have a canopy, but the fabric was gone, leaving a little roof of wood. Remus tried to climb it. He almost got to the top until Roman yanked him back down. Party pooper. Old coats were in the closets, and the drawers were lined with lace. When Remus tried to open the window, the rust yelled. Remus labeled it ‘Canopy Bedroom’ and Roman told him that he spelled canopy wrong. Remus chucked a pen through Roman’s forehead.

Office. Probably where someone did their homework. Remus sat in the chair and kicked at the legs, and Roman ruffled the papers until they flew all over the desk. There wasn’t any ink, or any quill pens, which would have been cool. Remus liked this room because of the clock in the corner. It was broken. Roman said the hands showed the time as two-thirty. Remus wondered what happened at two-thirty. The desk made the map easy to draw on. ‘Clock Room.’ Doodles of dragons in the margins, because Roman got distracted.

They skidded down the stairs and hopped into Remus’ own bedroom. Remus had fought tooth and nail for a bedroom on the third floor, ‘cause he didn’t want Mom and Dad hearing when he brought cool stuff into the room. That map was easy to make. Then was the nursery next door, where babies were probably made, and then the other bathroom. This one didn’t smell like lasagna, which made it better, but the bathtub was yellow, which made it worse. The final room was stripped of furniture. It made for a quick map.

The maps were piling up now. Remus kept them in one tube of paper under his arm. Roman had managed to lose half their pencils. When they scrambled into Mom and Dad’s room, Remus began to poke at the closet before realizing Dad was already there. He dragged Roman back out and proceeded to make up the rest of the map. Roman said it would ruin the accuracy. Remus said that they didn’t need to go in that room anyway, and that if they wanted to finish the maps before dinner, they’d have to hurry.

“How much different is it?” Remus asked in the second bedroom, trying on an old bathrobe. It made him feel like a duke. Maybe he would cut it up and put it in his outfit later. “What’s new about the house?”

“The furniture you brought,” Roman said, drifting above the wardrobe with a pencil in hand. “And bits of the third floor have been changed, because of water damage, I think? They added electricity, and all the bathrooms used to be closets.”

“What? _Really?”_ Remus didn’t know that. “Where were the bathrooms, then?”

“Outside!” Roman laughed at Remus’ face. “In the outhouses, obviously.”

“You pooped in the _forest?”_

“Not on the forest _floor_.”

“You pooped in _forest toilets?”_

“No!” Roman laughed harder. “We didn’t _have_ toilets! We’d poop in a hole!”

“Ew!” Remus said gleefully. “Ugh, I wish I was alive back then, I wanna poop in a hole.”

“You really don’t,” Roman said.

Remus still drew poop-holes on the edge of the map. Roman stuck out his tongue and called him “Revolting.”

“Is it weird?” Remus asked as they mapped out the living room. Big green couch, several lamps, Dad’s recliner, pile of junk on the table. “To have no poop-holes? Or no doors?”

“I don’t always notice,” Roman said. “I can just walk through walls where the doors used to be, and I don’t need to poop. But--yeah, it’s strange.” He tugged at the hem of his shirt. Clouds came away in his fingers. “I suppose everything’s changed a lot since I--got eaten by an alligator.”

“Alligator?” Remus asked.

“It’s a painful tale.” Roman dramatically screwed up his face. “I can hardly bear to recall.”

“Oki-dokey artichoke-y,” Remus said. “And yeah, things have probably changed all over the place. I’m gonna go to fourth grade, but it’ll be nothing like your fourth grade. We’ll learn different things.”

“I suppose so.” Roman doodled small circles in the margins of the map, circles and circles, like a million tornadoes stuck together. “You’ll have to tell me what it’s like.”

“Or you could come and see?”

The circles grew closer together. Tornadoes circling the map. Remus wondered what a tornado would feel like. Didn’t they just pick stuff up and _drop_ it again? Would it be like getting picked up by Roman--tingling and stomach-dropping, everything in limbo?

“It’s really not so bad,” Remus said, falling into his old job of convincing Roman to do stuff. Usually, it was easy. Roman liked having things to do, even illegal ones. “Sometimes the teachers give us candy for the right answer. If you poke an eraser with a pencil, it gets little gray holes.”

Roman looked about to make little gray holes in the _paper_. Remus tugged the map away from him before he could ruin it.

“I’m just saying,” Remus said. “You could possess me or whatever, or you could just float around and hang out. It’d be fun!”

“I can’t leave the house,” Roman said firmly.

“Who says you can’t?”

“Me.”

“Then say you _can!”_

“I’m not going to.” Roman tossed the pencil at the map. “You should erase the couch. It’s on the wrong side.”

Remus scribbled out the couch and put it in the right place, but now all the other bits of furniture were wrong. “Friends go to school with each other.”

“ _Human_ friends do.” Roman was flashing red all over now, and Remus didn’t know whether he was upset or angry or just in the mood for red. “Thought you liked ghost ones better.”

Remus was pretty sure that meant ‘I thought you liked _me_ better.’

And he did. He liked Roman _way_ better. But--there were perks about human friends. Parents didn’t make fun of them behind their backs. They were easier to shove when they were being jerks. And they didn’t go missing so easily. It was harder to lose a person, because they were all flesh and blood and heartbeat. Ghosts were easier to lose. They were just sky with eyes and a nose. Just air.

Playing hide-and-seek was fun, but only when it was a game they agreed on. Only when everyone knew the rules. Only when Remus could give up and Roman would float out of a closet with a pie-eating grin. Hide-and-seek wasn’t fun if someone just kept hiding. It wasn’t fun if someone had to get left behind.

Ghosts were better than people. So far, ghosts had been nicer, and cooler, and better at drawing. So far, ghosts had stuck around.

But ghosts couldn’t go to school. Ghosts couldn’t go shopping. Ghosts couldn’t eat potato chips or a latke or a really good cookie. Ghosts disappeared and Remus had to go find them. Ghosts needed maps or they’d get lost in their own house.

Remus liked Roman. That made things hard sometimes.

Circles and circles, a tornado all around the living room. They were almost done with the maps, unless they wanted to map out the yard as well, and it was raining too hard for that. Plus, Roman never left the house.

Remus stared at the maps. Maybe Roman was worried he’d get lost.

Maybe a map would help with that.

“We’ve just got a few rooms left,” Remus said. “And then we’ve got the shed, and then we’re done!”

“Great!” Roman looked happy at the change of topic. “Do we really need the shed, though? It’s not inside the house.”

“It’s still a building.” Remus gathered up the map and led the way to the dining room. “We can go outside and sketch the shed, just to get all the maps we need.”

Roman looked outside. “The weather’s bad. You’ll need your rain boots.”

“What’s the fun if you can’t splash in the puddles?” Remus set a new page of the map on the dining room table. Roman began to draw food around the edges. “And once we’ve gone to the shed and back, we could make this into a huge book, if we wanted. Color the pages and everything.”

Roman hummed, occupied with shading the edge of a blueberry. Remus checked the window. The rain actually seemed to be stopping. Definitely a good sign!

The dining room drawing was quick. After the entrance hall, the closet, the back room, and the kitchen--which they drew from memory, to avoid Mom--the maps were almost complete. A dozen pages of color and line, a true masterpiece, with several bad words written very small under the doodles. Remus tried to high-five Roman. For obvious reasons, the high-five did not work.

“Just the shed now!” Remus tucked the roll of maps under his arm and bounced to the back door. “Okay--raincoat, boots, umbrella? No room--”

“It isn’t raining so much,” Roman said. “Still, be careful, there could be lightning.”

“Nah, we’ll be okay, just in and out!” Remus tugged on his rain boots. They had little ducks on them. “And ghosts can’t get hit by lightning anyway.”

“ _You_ can.”

“I’m not a coward.” Remus pulled his raincoat over his shoulders. It felt like wax. When the back door opened, rain dripped from the doorway and dampened the mat. “Oh, those are some wicked puddles! Maybe I can go puddle-stomping later.”

“Don’t get the maps wet.” Roman motioned to the doorway. “Go ahead.”

Remus stepped through the doorway. A small path led past the boring plant garden, through the less-boring flower garden, and down the slopes of grass. The shed was nestled by the edge of the woods. It had a tin roof, and Remus could already hear the ping-ping of raindrops on it.

“Come on,” Remus said, wiping droplets from his hair. The rain was manageable enough. The grass squelched under his boots. “Ro?”

Roman looked confused. “I’m not coming.”

“You’re not?” Remus’ face fell. “Why not?”

“It’s outside of the house?” Roman sounded like he didn’t get it. “I don’t go outside the house.”

“It’s barely outside,” Remus said. “It’s, like, still in the _yard_.”

Roman moved away from the door.

“Come on.” Remus didn’t want to beg like a baby, but Roman _needed_ to get out here, he needed to go _outside_. “I can’t do the map without you. You need to draw on it!”

“I can doodle when you get back!”

“No!” Remus yelled. “No, that’s not the right order!”

“Well, I’m not _going!”_ Roman yelled back at him. “Leave me _alone_ , Remus!”

Remus screwed up his face. “You’re being _stupid!_ It’s just a stupid _yard_. I’ll be with you the whole _fricking_ time. What’s the big deal?”

“I don’t leave the house!”

“Why _can’t_ you?” Remus almost screamed. “If you want me to _get_ it, actually _tell_ me what you know! Stop being so vague and _tell_ me stuff!”

Roman looked about to cry. Could ghosts cry? Did Remus want to find out? “I said, leave me alone!”

“Fine!” Remus turned on his heel. “Fine, I’ll do the rest of the stupid map on my own. I’ll go to school on my own and leave you here to sulk, just like you want. Have fun. See if I care.”

Roman might have said something. Remus decided not to hear it.

The yard was muddy. In a better mood, Remus would have smeared some mud over his face. Instead he just kicked at it. Kick, kick, kick, all the way past the stupid plants and the still-stupid flowers. All the way down the stupid grass to the stupid shed. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

It was cold outside. Remus felt cold in his rain coat, and wet, even though his skin was dry. The maps crinkled under his arm. The sky boiled with dark clouds. When he glanced back, Roman was still standing in the door, a flash of white and red against the coats and the darkness. Remus stuck his tongue out. Stupid ghost. He wished he couldn’t see Roman, like everyone else.

Remus didn’t waste time making the shed map look nice. No point, if Roman was never gonna use it. ‘Shed.’ No doodles. A wonky square with some sticks for the garden tools and some circles for the sacks of hay. It all looked stupid. It wasn’t a good map. Didn’t matter, though, ‘cause Roman never went anywhere.

The shed was cold and empty. It was dark, too, lit only by a lightbulb. The rain ping-ping-pinged at the roof. The wood shivered. Remus’ face felt very red and very hot. Count to ten, Mom always said when he got mad. One. Two. Three. Four. And he knew the rest.

Maybe he’d learn more numbers in fourth grade. Third grade had been up to a hundred or two hundred. Maybe they’d make it even further. There were infinite numbers, right? They’d never run out of numbers. They’d just run out of time.

Fourth grade was gonna be no fun if Roman wasn’t there.

Remus rolled up the map and stuck it under his arm. When he opened the shed door, the wind rustled the edges of the papers. His fingers felt cold and wet, like bits of popsicle. The house teetered on the hill. He could see all the windows, all the rooms they’d went to--the bedrooms, the bathroom with lasagna in the toilet, the stairs, the living room. Remus’ own bedroom. It all kind of made sense when he looked at it from the outside. It was like a tier cake. Room on top of room.

It looked like a haunted house, with the trees around it black and shadowy, waving in the wind. With birds flying across the wild grey sky. It _was_ a haunted house. Roman was still there, a smudge of white, and Remus wondered why he got to see him. Why they stayed the same height and looked the same age. Why Roman had gotten stuck here in the first place, with no one to keep him company.

If Remus died, he’d want to see the world. He would never want to stay just where he’d started. What was the point of being a ghost if you didn’t do anything new?

Maybe he should ask Roman that. Maybe this time it’d work.

Remus climbed up the hill towards the house.

The wind picked up, blowing at his back. He adjusted the map and kept moving. It took all his strength to keep his boots from sticking in the mud, and all his self-control not to face-plant into the mud. The trees blew behind him, and when he looked back, he saw he’d left the shed light on. It glowed yellow next to the woods. It made him feel even colder.

Rain was starting to fall again. It was going to storm again. Of course it was. Remus was going to have a rainy, wet, no-good last day of summer. Stuck inside the house. It couldn’t be good for him.

It couldn’t be good for either of them.

But here they were.

“Hi,” was all that Roman said when Remus reached the doorway.

“Got the map.” Remus’ nose was starting to run. “It’s cold out there.”

“Close the door.” Roman poked curiously at the papers, avoiding Remus’ eyes. “Can I see it?”

Remus handed Roman the stack of maps. Roman leafed through them, pausing at the shed one, then skimmed the rest. The rain began to pick up outside. Water dripped from Remus’ boots onto the floor.

“Where’s the bedroom?” Roman asked.

“What?”

“I can’t find the map of our bedroom.” Roman looked confused. “Did you leave it in the house somewhere?”

Remus felt cold again. “I--I don’t think so.”

Roman looked past him. Remus turned around to see rain beginning to fall on the grass, and a long trampled walk back to the shed.

“I dropped it,” Remus realized. “Oh _no_ , I dropped it--it’s gonna get all wet!”

“It’s okay,” Roman said, sounding like he didn’t know whether it actually was. “You know the way around your bedroom.”

“ _You_ bumped into the wall,” Remus said. He scanned the grass for any sign of the map. Nothing was there. It could have fallen into mud, or gotten crumpled, or blown away in the wind. “We need that! And I just lost it! I gotta get it back, Ro--”

“We’ll make another one.” Roman looked sympathetic. “It’s okay--”

“We don’t have _time_ to make another one!” Humiliatingly, Remus felt his eyes burn. “‘Cause we’re eating dinner soon, and _then_ I gotta go tomorrow for shopping, and _then_ I’ve got school! And you gotta have the map by then, so you don’t get lost when I’m gone!”

Roman flickered red. “What?”

“I gotta get it.” Remus shoved the rest of the maps towards Roman. They fell through him and hit the floor. “If you’d been there, I wouldn’t have dropped them.”

Roman looked hurt. “You might have anyway.”

“ _Yeah_ , I might have anyway, shut your hole. No one cares.” Remus made a frustrated noise. “Fine, it’s all my fault and I got the map ruined. Shut up. I gotta go get it.”

Before Roman could argue, Remus stepped into the rain. It was coming down faster now. The map would probably be halfway ruined already. If he could find it, though, he’d be able to dry it. And Roman would know where the door was.

But he’d lost the map. It was lost somewhere in the backyard, stuck somewhere between grey skies and grey grass and grey rain. Remus couldn’t see it. He squinted and he cupped his eyes and he blinked the water from his eyelashes, but he couldn’t see it. There wasn’t a single flash of white.

A rumble of thunder in the distance.

“Get back inside,” Roman called. “This is dangerous.”

“I can’t find it!” Remus yelled back. He sounded panicked. Was he panicking? “I can’t _find_ it, Ro, I need to find it--I don’t wanna _leave_ it here--”

Another rumble of thunder. Remus was cold. He didn’t even want to walk deeper into the yard. The woods were dark and the shed was flickering and he felt frozen in his boots. His skin tingled. His breath froze.

And then the world _deepened_.

Two sides to everything. Like he’d grown extra eyes. It always felt like this--like a video with more pixels, or cooler colors, or binoculars attached. He could never pinpoint what he _could_ see. He just knew it was-- _more_ than usual.

The world was a riot of color and darkness, swirling like a tornado, and Remus laughed.

“Thanks,” he said as he took a step forward.

Or tried to. “Don’t,” he hissed back at himself in Roman’s voice. “I am not going to try walking again. We’re just looking right now. Look around.”

Remus looked.

Hide-and-seek. If he was a map, where would he hide?

Color. Darkness and scribbles and circles going around, but that was all in the margins, that didn’t matter. Thunder rumbled. He didn’t jump. The rain seemed to go right through him.

White.

A piece of white, like a flag, stuck in the boring plant garden.

Remus whooped. Or maybe it was Roman who did. Who knew?

“Can I walk now?” he asked, and Roman groaned in response. Remus’ boots loosened. He ran through the rain and grabbed the map with one hand, swiping at it with a wet hand, until he realized that did no good. The colors were running. He tucked it into his raincoat, and the raincoat smeared across his hand as well, the paper leaking white and red.

Too much. _Way_ too much. Maybe there’d been a reason that Roman didn’t want to do this. Everything was double, switching and colliding, holes opening and spinning dizzily in the air.

“It’s okay,” Roman said with Remus’ mouth. “Close your eyes, I’ll find our way back.”

Remus squeezed his eyes shut.

And Roman guided them back to the door.

When the rain stopped, so did the dizziness. Remus almost fell against the wall. Roman collapsed against the opposite one, running his hands through his hair and pulling at his sleeves. The door slammed shut. Maybe that was Roman, or maybe it was the wind that began to howl at the house. A bad storm. They’d been lucky to avoid it.

“Is the map okay?” Remus opened his eyes and peeled the paper away from his raincoat. “Oh frick, it’s all smeared.”

“It looks fine to me.” Roman drifted over and traced the edges. “All my doodles are dry, and I can see where everything is.”

Remus blinked the water out of his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, so can I.”

“Good job,” Roman said, and Remus looked over at him. “It’s a nice part of a nice map.”

“Thanks,” Remus said awkwardly. People didn’t give him compliments very much. Maybe that was a ghost thing. “You did good with the art.”

Roman beamed at him. Red and white, a warm blanket around his shoulders.

“And--uh--” Remus motioned to the door. “You went--”

“I don’t like thunderstorms,” Roman said simply. “And I wanted to help you find it.”

Remus found himself smiling. “So you _can_ go outside.”

“I can.”

“Why don’t you?”

Roman ruffled the edge of the map. It was already drying. “Because there aren’t good maps like this one, so I’m not sure if I could find my way back.”

“You made it back without a map today.” Remus kicked off his rain boots and shrugged off his coat. “Plus, if you went to school, I’d be there. I’d make sure you got back alright.”

Roman chewed his lip.

“It’d be okay,” Remus said. “You’d see me the whole time. And--you wouldn’t have to be alone in this house all year. You spend too much time in it already.”

Roman laughed a bit. “I don’t mind. You’re there.”

“I’m not gonna be.” Remus rubbed his arms, and the chill began to fade. “It’s the house or me, bro. And I’m pretty sure you like me better.”

Roman’s smile was smaller now, but still just as bright.

“I could make you a map,” Remus finally offered. “Of the way to school and back. Just in case?”

“I’d like that.” Roman paused. “I...it might be a while before I decide to go _that_ far from the house. You might have to torment your teachers on your own.”

“Oh, I’m great at that.” Remus led Roman into the living room. He could already smell dinner. Mom waved, and he waved back, and Roman waved, too. Mom couldn’t see him, but Roman was polite like that. Maybe she’d even wave back at Roman one day, if they were lucky. “And--yeah, take your time. We’ve got a lot of it.”

“True.” Roman drifted along, a few feet above ground. He glowed like lightning, and red flickered in time with the thunder, impossible not to see. “I’ll find what works, okay?”

“Okay!” Remus spread the maps on the table. The lines glistened--a tornado of doodles and a house of scribbles. Maybe not much of a map. But it was fun to make, and helpful to find, and a good haunted map for a haunted house. “Are you gonna stick around to staple these together?”

“Of course,” Roman said, pencil already in hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Remus smiled. “Neither am I.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at @averykedavra!


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